So, I found this beautiful dress last semester while I was on vacation and I was going to save up and buy if for my prom and I was so extremely excited about it, but something in the back of my mind bothered me. I have this best friend who has everything. She has a ton of friends, good grades, she's has roots in Tennessee. And here I am, the nomad, who knows nobody and befriends this pretty little redhead and I was so jealous of her. I try so hard, but I think no matter what I do, I will always be jealous of her. Well, I was driving back from Oklahoma after vacation and thinking about how horrid it would be if she bought my dress. Thus, I am proud to bring you Tiny Pink Butterflies. Now, it's a rough draft, but I am still hoping that you will enjoy it. Tiny Pink Butterflies

“Christine!” I exclaimed when I saw my cousin waiting for me at the airport. I ran to her and we squeezed each other tightly. I had not seen Christine since I had moved away four years ago. When we were younger, Christine and I had been inseparable. We played in the mud together as babies and gossiped about boys together in middle school. Though we still talked online and over the phone pretty frequently, the distance had pulled us and our relationship apart. This trip was going to be very special for the two of us and we both realized that.

“So, what have you been up to girlie?” She asked me as we went downstairs to find my luggage. I rolled my eyes, knowing that she was only asking to lead up to something in her life that was amazing and in desperate need of sharing. She would ask “What’s new?” and I would say “Not much,” and she would be silent until I added “Is anything new with you?” That’s when she would start talking nonstop forever about one single event.

“No much,” I said obligatorily. As usual, there was a pause. “How about you?”

Christine beamed. “Well, you know that guy James that I sat next to in History for, like, all of last semester?” I nodded unnecessarily. She would have continued regardless of my response. “Well, you know, I really liked him and he was so cute and he was, like, really smart and...anyway, I gave him my number at the end of the semester, but, you know, didn’t think anything would ever come of it. I think he had some girlfriend or something. Well, he and I started texting and stuff anyway and talked in the halls. Well it was nothing and I didn’t see him as much anymore, you know, after the semester ended, so I didn’t know that he broke up with that girl. So, I was so totally surprised when he asked me to Junior Prom!”

I stopped and turned to my cousin, thrilled for her. We had both decided as Freshman that we would not go to Junior Prom at all unless a boy asked us to go. Well, from the way our Junior years had been progressing, it seemed as if neither of us would be going. In February, I found myself lucky enough to be asked by not one, but three guys. Luckily the first happened to be the one guy I had been crushing on since first semester of Sophomore year, Kyle Allen. As the month wore on, I could tell each time that I talked to Christine that she was unhappy to be staying home during her Junior Prom while I would be getting the privilege of attending mine. I continued to tell her that, if she was really so upset about not being able to go, she could go. It was just some stupid deal we had come up with as stupid Freshmen, so it could be forgotten so easily. But, as the drama queen she was, Christine just sulked, upset that she would not be attending her Junior Prom. But now, things changed. She would be going to her Junior Prom. No more reasons to sulk.

We found out luggage and talked about our lives, then made our way outside where my Aunt Lillian was waiting in her Suburban. Typical soccer mom. “Oh my Gina! Just look at you! Look at you! All grown up! You are so beautiful!” I jumped in the front seat of the SUV with a smile.

“Thank you, Aunt Lillian,” I said sweetly, then winked to Christine. She smiled and we both giggled. Aunt Lillian gave me a puzzled look, but didn’t question us. She just smiled and giggled, too.

“Well, Gina how was the flight? Are you tired?” I sighed and nodded. How could I not be tired flying from Southern Virginia to Northern Cali?

“Exhausted,” I admitted.

“Well, then, how about we get you back to the house and you can take a long, hot shower; put on some cozy pj’s; and have dinner. I made Chicken Pot Pie, you’re favorite.” I smiled, excited. It really was my favorite food and we didn’t get it much at home. When we did get it, it was most definitely not homemade.

At the house, I found it surprisingly easy to relax. My cousin, Connor, came out and grabbed all of my luggage for me. I gave Christine a look just as she turned to give me one of her own. Her twin had always been lazy, grudgingly doing chores for his mother only once or twice a week. According to Christine, he had never grown out of this work allergy, but I guess people can sometimes surprise you.

We went inside to find the younger twins sitting on the floor, staring at the T.V. The normally wild ten-year-old boys seemed to be in a trance, never blinking or moving their eyes away from Spongebob. I didn’t even bother to try to move them from the T.V. Even I knew that this silence was rare and should be cherished.

Connor dropped my suitcases in the spare room, so Christine and I went in and began to unpack the clothing and put most pieces in the dresser, hanging up what needed hanging.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place so quiet,” I commented. “Even before the boys were born.” Christine snickered.

“Yeah, maybe you should visit more often. Then everybody will try to stay on their best behavior. You know?” I smiled. Yeah, I knew.

“So, what are we doing this week?” I asked finally, anxious to hear my cousin’s plans for the fun-filled week. She gave me a sly smile, telling me that we were going to be up to no good at all. I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help but to smile myself. Aunt Lillian walked in right then, so Christine quickly responded to my question.

I gasped when we entered the food court, amazed at the size. Though I had spent the better part of my twelve years in California at this mall, I had forgotten how amazingly large it was. Maybe it was the fact that I had moved to such a small town. I lived near one single level shopping mall. For an avid shopper like me, it was agony. But this was three levels and had its own movie theatre.

“So...where do we start?” I asked, slightly overwhelmed by the vastness of my former favorite hangout.

Christine looked around, then dragged me over to a group of pink clad, giggly girls. I squinted and grimaced.

“Your friends?” I questioned. Christine simply nodded. One of the girls jumped up when she saw us, her big, perky boobs bouncing up and down in her low cut, off the shoulder, babydoll pink sweater. Her mini seemed big enough to fit a twelve-year-old girl. The first thing that came to my mind was Mean Girls. Since when was my cousin a pink? I sized Christine up. She was wearing light blue skinnies, a white lace cami, and a skin-tight pink and hot pink argyle sweater. Her blonde hair was done in big, precise ringlets and a pink leather headband was nestled among her curls. How had I not noticed before?

The big boobed girl hugged Christine, then turned to me. “Is this your cousin?” she asked, regarding me with a false smile. She didn’t seem pleased with what she saw. I wore no makeup. My only jewelry happened to be a pair of large, lime green, ice-cream cone earrings. My dark skinnies were tucked into black rain boots with bright green froggies. I wore a white graphic tee with Kermit the Frog on it. Beneath him, in green and black lettering, were the words “It’s not easy being Green!” Half of Kermit’s face was cut off by a thin, lime green, glittery scarf. I tugged nervously on the earrings. The girl sneered.

“She’s adorable!” one girl exclaimed, breaking the silence. Big boobs gave her a look and she shut up. Christine grabbed my hand for support. As if I cared what big boobs thought about me. I just smiled and stuck out my hand to shake.

“Hi! I’m Christine’s cousin, Gina. You must be Jessica Simpson.” Big boobs turned from her lackey to me with a glare in her eye.

“No, my name’s Samantha,” she snapped. I raised my eyebrows and nodded. Either she didn’t understand or she didn’t like my joke. Probably the first.

“Yeah, uh, Gina, this is Samantha. And Veronica.” Christine pointed at the girl who thought I was adorable. “And Tori, and Bella, and Monique.” She gestured at the other girls one at a time. I smiled and nodded to each of them. They all smiled back. All except for big boobs. Samantha. Sam.

“So...who’s up for prom dress shopping?” I said, trying to sound excited. Sam rolled her eyes. The other girls tried to seem disinterested, but could not hide their excitement.

“I cannot wait!” Veronica finally exclaimed. I beamed at her. I liked her already. I decided that if all else failed, I would stick with Veronica for the rest of the day. Ronnie. I liked that. Ronnie.

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We spent the next few hours in the most expensive dress shops. I saw some cute dresses and tried on at least thirty, but none seemed to jump out at me. All I had seen so far that day were large, gaudy, overpriced bundles of material. Finding a prom dress was beginning to become a chore. Finally, when almost every girl had gotten a dress except for me, I suggested that we try one of the department stores.

Most of the girls had given me strange looks. Only Ronnie and Christine had not thought the idea was strange. Luckily, they were also the only girls who had not bought dresses.

“Well,” Sam had said, “I guess if you want the same dress as everybody else, then who am I to stop you?” I rolled my eyes at her. Sam was definitely my least favorite person there. I could not imagine why somebody as wonderful as Christine would want to hang out with her. But I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to insult my cousin.

We made our way through Dillard’s to the back of the Junior’s section to find it empty. All of the other stores that we had visited were full of girls searching for prom dresses. It seemed as if girls avoided department store dresses. It also seemed as if it would be Prom Queen Samantha who would be most likely to end up matching another girl. I suddenly felt sorry for the poor girl who chose the same dress as Sam.

I was soon lost in the vast array of dresses, still facing the same problem as before. None of the dresses seemed right. That’s when I saw it. It was the only dress of its kind, hidden in the back of a rack of deep blue dresses. I would not have noticed it if its bright pink fabric had been hidden elsewhere. But here, the dress stuck out behind its blue sisters. I pulled it off the rack and hung it in front of all the other dresses, examining it closely.

The dress was strapless, with a hot pink stripe right above the bosom. The skirt was hot pink as well. Over the hot pink skirt was a black satin material that ended at the hip on one side, but fell to the floor on the other. Tiny, hot pink butterflies ran down the black corset of the dress. The back was exposed, only the thin lacing that held the dress together would cover it. I was in love...with a dress.

“Ronnie! Christine! Get over here! I found it!” The girls ran over to me, and gazed at the dress that I now held against my body. Sam scoffed, but Ronnie gasped.

I giggled. “It’s fine, Ronnie,” I assured her. “But this is the only one.” I then realized that I had never checked the size on the dress. Being almost six feet tall, I was forced to wear a size 8-10. The dress was a 4-6. I suddenly felt as if I would cry. I wanted this dress. No, I needed this dress.

I looked up at Ronnie. “What size are you?” I managed to whisper. I know it was cruel, but I hoped she would be too big for the dress as well. Please be an eight, please be an eight. I repeated in my mind. If I couldn’t have the dress, I didn’t want anybody to have it. This was my dress.

“I’m a six!” she said cheerily. I was crushed. I had to give her my dress. Slowly, I reached out and handed the beautiful piece of clothing to her.

“It would never fit me,” I admitted. “You can have it.”

I then heard Sam laugh. “Too fat for your special dress, huh? That is beautiful! Maybe if you didn’t eat burgers every night, you’d be holding this dress instead of Veronica.”

“Listen, Sam, I’m not the one who had to pass up at least ten dresses because my boobs were too big for them, so I wouldn’t be talking. And I’m a vegetarian, so I probably eat better than you do. No KFC for me!” I snickered. She could not deny that she ate at KFC. We had all watched her do it in the food court just today.

Samantha turned bright red, but for a different reason than I thought she would. “Don’t,” she said hostilely, “ever...call me...Sam!” I was taken aback, but slightly happy. I had something against her. Bad move, Prom Queen.

I turned to Ronnie who was eyeing the dress. “I don’t want it if you can’t have it,” she said meekly. I smiled.

“Don’t worry about it, Ronnie.”

“But you saw it first.”

“I said don’t worry. I can get one online,” I said as sweetly as possible. It was true that I could get it online. I would get it online. This was it. My dress. Nothing was going to stop me from having this dress.

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“I miss you already!” I said to Christine over the phone as I made my way through the airport.

“Oh, I miss you, too, girlie! I so wish Spring break were longer.”

“Don’t we both!” We giggled and I told her to tell her mom that I had gotten home safely. We said our goodbyes then I got my luggage and called my mom.

“I am so sorry, love! I got stuck at work again! I’ll be there soon. I promise. Just hold tight! I will get out of here as soon as possible.” I rolled my eyes. This was so typical. I figured that my mom wouldn’t be at the airport when I got home, but it was ridiculous that she was still at the office. She was such a workaholic.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it mom. I actually think Rachel is picking me up so we can go prom dress shopping.”

I could hear Mom let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, well. That works out well, then doesn’t it? Tell Rachel thank you for me!”

“I will, Mom. Love you.” She hung up before I could say goodbye. I let out a sigh and sat down to call my best friend, Rachel.

“Hey, Rach, I was just wondering if you could possibly pick me up from the airport.”

I nodded, then realized that she could not see me. “Yeah. I told her that you and I already had plans to go prom dress shopping anyway.”

Rachel paused then. “Oh. Gina, dear, I am so sorry. I thought that you were gonna get yours in Cali, so I sort of already got one. Well, I got it but I don’t have it yet. I ordered it online yesterday. You know, if you get to go to Cali and get an original dress, then I should be original, too. I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t know.”

I laughed. “It’s totally cool, Rach! I actually saw this incredible dress while I was out there, but they didn’t have it in my size, so I was going to buy it online.”

“Oh, thank goodness! But you still need a ride?”

“Do you mind?”

“When did I ever mind? Don’t answer that. I’m on my way.” She hung up and I giggled. Rachel sure was a character. I couldn’t wait to get online and show her my perfect dress. Christine and I had already been online to make sure I could get it. We didn’t order it, though, because I wanted to use my mom’s credit card instead of Uncle Phillip’s.

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We sat on Rachel’s bed, waiting for her laptop to boot and talking about out Spring breaks. I missed Rachel so much during the break and wished dearly that she had been there to see the real dress. No matter, she would be seeing it soon. And it would be on my body. And it would be mine. And it would be beautiful. I would be beautiful.

The computer finally booted and we both decided that Rachel would show me her dress first. After all, she had already ordered her dress. Mine was still no more than a dream. She got onto the Dillard’s website and I suddenly became nervous. But she didn’t buy my dress. She couldn’t buy my dress. Could she?

She clicked on a thumbnail of a pink and black piece and I became more nervous. It loaded slowly, but I knew. She bought my dress. Now, I couldn’t buy my dress. I wouldn’t wear a beautiful dress and I wouldn’t look beautiful in it. It was not my dress. It was Rachel’s. Rachel would wear the dress and she would look beautiful. Not me, Rachel. My heart was broken. What was I supposed to do? She had already bought my dress.

“I know I’m not skinny,” she admitted, “but they didn’t have it in anything larger than an 8-10. Can you believe it? I don’t get it either. But I’ll fit into it by prom, don’t you worry about that. Maybe you can help me.” Rachel turned to me and her face fell. “You don’t like it?”

I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t look at her. She had my dress! “No,” I said. “I think it’s unbelievable. You’re so lucky!”

“Oh, well I bet your dress is wonderful, too,” she said, as if she were trying to comfort me. “I know it’s pretty, but I bet yours is nice, too.”

I shook my head. That is my dress! I wanted to scream at her. That is my dress and you can’t even fit into it but you stole it from me anyway! You stole my dress! But I never said that. Instead, I shook my head and told her, “No. It’s not this pretty. I can’t believe you found a dress that was this lovely.” That was true. I couldn’t believe it.

“Well, come on! Let’s see your dress, then I’ll be the judge.” That’s when I turned to her. I couldn’t bluff it and click on a random dress. Then I would be forced to buy that dress. But I couldn’t refuse to show her the dress, either. Then she would know. I looked at the dress inside the computer, then back at my friend.

“No, it’s really not that pretty,” I said. “I don’t think I can show it to you. Let’s wait until they come in the mail. Then we can really see them and really judge them.” Rachel nodded as if she thought that were a great idea.

“Oh, why hadn’t I thought of that? Okay, we’ll wait. It’s too bad we didn’t think about that before I showed you mine.”

No, it’s not. If we waited, it would be too late. “Oh, yeah, it is too bad. Too late, too, though. But it’s okay. I just can’t wait to see it in person. You know it’ll be different in person.” I had already seen it in person, but I couldn’t say that. We talked for a little while longer, then I said I wanted to get home and order the dress. She agreed that this was a good idea if we wanted the dresses to arrive at about the same time.

Right when I got home, I dropped my bags and sat in front of my personal computer. Mom probably wouldn’t be home until late, so I ate a piece of cold pizza just so I could say I ate dinner, though I was not very hungry, and spent all my time on the computer. I did a Google search for prom dresses and visited at least five different websites before I almost gave up. This really was a chore.

There were a few pretty dresses, but none of them were nearly as wonderful as the hot pink butterfly dress. My dress. Rachel’s dress. I was still heartbroken. Of course, it was not very fair to all these other dresses because I kept comparing them to that dress. None were good enough. It was not that I wanted to be better than Rachel, it was just that I could not, would not, stop thinking about my dress. Nothing seemed worth it compared to the butterfly dress.

It was ten before I found something actually worth considering. It was a pretty mint green with a black corset and small, mint green flowers. I heard my mom walk in the door. After a moment, she came into my room.

“Sorry about today,” she said. I knew she was sorry. She was always sorry. “Is there anything can do for you?” I looked up from my computer.

“Can you get me this dress?” I asked very bluntly. Mom walked over to the computer and looked at the dress on the screen.

“What about that pink one you were telling me about?”

I flinched. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled. “Will you buy me this dress?”

My mom shrugged, not wanting to press the subject. “I’ll give you my credit card,” she said absently. She took out her wallet and gave me the plastic and a kiss on the head. She walked out of the room slowly, probably very confused. I bought the dress, then went to bed, unable to stop thinking about my butterfly dress. Still, I was happy to have a dress I was at least partly pleased with.

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Rachel’s dress arrived in the mail about one week before mine. She waited to open the package until I received mine. We both showed our dresses off to our mothers, but did not try them on. I knew that Rachel could not squeeze into her dress yet and it would not be fair if I tried mine on while she could not fit into her own. I had thought about it, though, since she stole my dress. I had to let go of that, but it was much too difficult. It had been the perfect dress. Still, Rachel was my best friend and I was glad that if anybody stole my dress, it was her. I was glad that Rachel was using it as an excuse to get in shape, too.

Over the next month and a half, I visited the gym every day with Rachel to support her in her effort to get in shape. Of course, my dress fit perfectly, so I made sure to eat a lot so that I didn’t lose any weight. It wasn’t really a bad deal, I thought. Somehow, in the six weeks between the time that Rachel got the dress and prom, she was able to drop a dress size. I was proud of her. She really wanted that dress and she was willing to work to have it. And she had done something healthy. It was becoming more and more difficult to be upset about losing the dress.

Last edited by clonechild on Wed Jul 01, 2009 10:48 pm; edited 1 time in total

The night of prom, I went out to dinner with three other couples, including Rachel and her date. He was wearing a solid black tux with a hot pink bow tie and cummerbund. Rachel had a hot pink carnation tied around her wrist. She was breathtaking. I snapped a ton of pictures of her for two reasons. First--and at this point most prominent--her new body was drop-dead gorgeous and second--the most obvious reason to me--I wanted pictures of my dress. Even then, I still considered it my dress.

Kyle had picked out a white tux with mint green. He looked so spiffy. I was glad for the white. It would really brighten up our pictures and it went well with the mint color. I was not unhappy with my dress. I could easily admit that I would have been much happier in my butterfly dress, but I could not say I was unhappy. I knew that I, too, looked beautiful that night.

About half way through the dance, I pulled Rachel aside. I had to tell her about the dress. I would not let her feel bad, but she was my best friend. She had to know how I felt about the dress. We went into the bathroom together to get away from the noise and she looked at me with concern.

“What happened?” she asked me. I smiled reassuringly.

“Don’t worry. Nothing happened. I just...remember the day you showed me that dress?” I asked, gesturing to her beautiful piece of clothing. She smiled and looked down at it.

“The day that you came back from Cali. So fun!” I smiled, glad that it was a good memory for her. I almost stopped, not wanting to ruin that memory. But I decided to continue.

“Yes. Well, I...I have to tell you why I didn’t show you my dress.”

“You...lied about...but why?” I looked down and nodded. I had lied; that was true.

“Well, I didn’t know what else to do...because this was my dress.”

She paused. “My dress?” I nodded. She gaped at me a moment, then laughed. “Why on earth did you not tell me?” she asked finally. I gave her a baffled look.

“Well,” I began, “I didn’t want you to feel bad. And you were going to get in shape. And you had already gotten it. And--”

“Gina, you know me. I would not have given the dress up, but goodness, you should have told me!” I smiled and nodded.

“I just told you,” I said. She giggled.

“That’s fair enough. Well, you can still get your dress,” she promised. I shot her a strange look.

“We can’t trade dresses now!” I exclaimed. A few girls gave us odd looks which made Rachel smile.

“Of course not, but there’s always next year! I mean, it’s only our Junior Prom. If the dress means that much to you, then it will be extra special when you wear it to your Senior Prom. And I can wear yours next year. Then we won’t have to buy all new dresses!” I gaped at her. I could not believe that I had not thought about that during all that time that I had sulked about the loss of my dress. I had to laugh at myself.

“It’s not a joke. I’m serious!” she said protectively.

“I know. I just...I can’t believe I didn’t think about it before.”

“So, we’re good?” She said somewhat mildly.

“We were always good,” I said, giving her a hug. She hugged me back and we made our way back to our friends.

“By the way,” I said, “I don’t think I’ve told you how proud I am of you for getting into that dress. I think you look breathtaking tonight!” She beamed at me.

“Really?” she said hopefully.

“Really,” I promised. We made it back to the others and exhausted ourselves dancing nonstop for the rest of the night. I didn’t know how we were going to make it through the after party. I stopped at one point and watched my best friend dancing wildly, the butterfly dress moving elegantly with her skinny body. She looked great in that dress. My dress. Her dress. Our dress.